


Butterfly Kisses

by jottingprosaist (jane_potter)



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Crying, Dom/sub, F/F, Mephala worshipper meets Dibella worshipper, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Painplay, Predicament Bondage, neither 'big clit' nor 'big tits' is an established tag, we got both here tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:15:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27126407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jane_potter/pseuds/jottingprosaist
Summary: Diranali Vedrano has an herb garden, an empty house, and a thing for dangerous women.Jenassa has a stern hand and a taste for nervous prey. And nipple clamps.
Relationships: Jenassa (Elder Scrolls)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	Butterfly Kisses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [citruspuppy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/citruspuppy/gifts).



> [Take a look at Dira here.](https://www.instagram.com/p/CFU5EFcBZPE/)

Dira was on her knees in her bedroom with her hands behind her back, which wasn’t a terribly unusual situation. That didn’t prevent a shiver of anxious anticipation from prickling her skin everywhere Jenassa’s fingers brushed.

Jenassa seemed to be going out of her way not to touch Dira properly. She trailed fingertips down Dira’s spine, made tiny adjustments to her posture, brushed her hair back over her shoulder… circled around front and tilted Dira’s chin up to look her in the eye.

“You’re nervous.” After a moment, Jenassa smiled. “That’s wise.”

A throb of arousal made Dira clench. Knowing it showed on her face, she smiled back but held her tongue. Part of her wanted to ease the tension in the air, but the rest of her was electrified by it: the subtle threat, the latent danger Jenassa wore like a cloak. It was what had brought them here.

Dira wondered what aura _she_ had given off that had made Jenassa pause, cock her head, and say, “Now you have some interesting desires, don’t you.”

While Dira held her position, Jenassa stepped back and disrobed, laying everything neatly across Dira’s bed beside her pack. (As if it were Jenassa’s bed now. Jenassa’s room. She had told Dira to leave her own clothes in a pile by the door and get on her knees.) There was no artifice to it, only a cool self-assurance that nudity made no difference to her security. Beneath the mercenary’s armour was a narrow, sinewy body, tracked with more tattoos and fewer scars than Dira had guessed.

Jenassa returned, nude except for her loincloth. Frustrated not to see what she had hoped for— but _oh_ , those were nice breasts, small and flat with taut dark nipples— Dira flicked her eyes hastily up to Jenassa’s face.

A calloused thumb rubbed her chin. “You’re awfully quiet now. I’d like to hear you make some noise.”

The objects dangling from her hand all but guaranteed it: a pair of polished brass clamps and several small iron balls jingling with tiny wire hooks.

The clamps were crafted to look like butterflies, their wings flapping gently when Jenassa demonstratively flexed one. Dira recognized Dibellan craftsmanship when she saw it. “Oh, that’s beautiful—”

Her voice caught when the clamp opened again and revealed a sharp set of teeth. It wasn’t _all_ fear. Jenassa laughed.

“Manipulating the body is an art, and I am a master. Are you certain you’d like to be my subject, Diranali?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Very good.” And the first clamp closed on Dira’s right nipple without warning.

A startled yelp escaped; her involuntary jolt pulled the clamp from Jenassa’s hand and redoubled the blaze of pain radiating from her nipple. Barely resisting the urge to snatch the clamp off ( _“Your hands stay behind your back_ ,” Jenassa had said), Dira squeezed her eyes shut and writhed in place, her spine arching as if that could relieve the pain.

Slowly— so slowly— it faded to a tolerable ache. Jenassa took Dira’s hand— the one that had been fluttering over her breast, barely-almost-not-quite under control— and gently but exactingly guided it behind her back again.

Dira clenched her hands and opened her eyes. The world was swimming at the edges.

“Deep breath,” Jenassa said, holding the second clamp open and threatening over Dira’s left nipple. Her eyes were deep liquid red and incredibly intense.

She let Dira breathe in and hold it, _waiting_ , until Dira had gone tense with strain. The clamp snapped shut when she was no longer expecting it, and the breath she had just been about to release came out as a pained yell.

“Delightful,” Jenassa said, stroking away the first tear that rolled down Dira’s cheek. She laughed at Dira’s glare. “Oh my dear, it’s going to get worse. I hope you’re not expecting that pout to sway my tender mercies. I have none.”

“No,” Dira said, feeling her own face heat with the vulnerability of saying it out loud. “Please don’t. I— want you to.”

Startlement and pleasure flashed across Jenassa’s face. True to her word, it did nothing to soften her unforgiving demands as she hung the small iron weights from the clamps, one at a time, until Dira’s tits hung heavy under the weight of four irons each.

The ache was breathtakingly intense: the same blinding sting of her nipples being pierced but _constant_ , unending. Whimpering, Dira had to look at her nipples to reassure herself that they weren’t actually being damaged. Somehow it wasn’t fair that she could hurt so badly but not _really_ be injured.

“How does that feel?” The taut pleasure in Jenassa’s voice suggested she would enjoy Dira’s words as much as the consent they gave.

“ _Ah_ … good.”

“Really?”

“No, I mean— it _hurts_. But it’s… that’s okay.”

A single finger tapped a brass butterfly’s wing. Dira’s eyes welled up. It was mean and _unfair_ to hurt her for giving an honest answer and it was exactly what she didn’t-want-but-wanted. Her whole lower body was hot with arousal. Jenassa’s eyes gleamed like she knew it.

“Kneel up. Higher. Knees apart, now. Expose yourself.”

Dira shuddered. Her pussy was wet enough that the air felt cool. Her cheeks burned hot.

Jenassa circled behind her, leaned in and slid a single long finger between her legs. Dira was so slick that it glided easily between her labia and over her hole, fast and almost frictionless. Her whole body jerked.

“Oh! Ngh— please—”

Jenassa gave her four more strokes, each one so nearly frictionless that Dira was more frustrated than fulfilled. When Jenassa’s finger didn’t return she was left moaning with loss, trying not to pant too hard and make the weights on her nipples swing.

“Delicious.” Jenassa came back around and held her glistening finger before Dira’s face. Dira had leaned forward and taken it in her mouth, sucking hard, before Jenassa could belatedly order, “...Taste.”

Dira looked up in challenge, hollowing her cheeks. Jenassa’s finger pressed down on her tongue.

Unexpectedly, Jenassa said, “It is a lonely thing, facing all the dangers of Skyrim by myself.” Her finger slid deeper, stroking closer to the back of Dira’s throat, but her face had softened into something like affection. “I am glad I sought the use of your herbs. You are… not what I had expected.”

Pleased, Dira smiled around the finger. Sex was one thing, but salving someone’s loneliness was even nicer.

“Yes, yes, you’re a pretty thing.” Jenassa sounded caught between affection and crankiness. “I see I need to give you something else to wrap those delectable lips around.”

“Yesh! Pleash...”

She sounded a little dumb talking around the finger, but humiliation was a half-pleasant prickle and it made Jenassa smile like a predator.

Jenassa unknotted her loincloth over one sharp-bladed hip. It slid down her tattooed legs, though Dira didn’t see it fall.

Her eyes were fixed on Jenassa’s clit. Jenassa had trimmed her bush to a wiry scratch and her labia were small, which only magnified the effect of the enormous clit that thrust out between them, thick and hard and nearly the size of Dira’s thumb. It wore a foreskin almost like a cock, half withdrawn around the glistening flushed head.

“Oh,” Dira breathed, transfixed. The sight was new and unexpected and _arousing_. “That’s… oh. _Yes_.” She didn’t want her incoherency to sound negative.

Jenassa hummed, pleased. She slid one hand around the back of Dira’s head and gripped her hair, but held her in place rather than pulling her in— prevented her from leaning forward, in fact. If Dira licked her, it would only be on Jenassa’s orders.

“I suppose I should thank you, Diranali. Your herbs will help me work wonders beyond paralysis and enfeeblement. I admit this alteration of self is not for lethal effect, but… Mephala likes more than one kind of art.”

As distracted as Dira was, the alchemist in her wanted to know. She hadn’t dealt in poisons in— in a _while_ … but a concoction that affected the body like _this_ was new and interesting. “Which herbs? Pine root? With… elk horn? Or...”

Jenassa flicked one of the nipple clamps, making her squeak. “That’s not what you ought to be thinking about right now.”

“Is it a surface application, or do you drink it?” Dira persisted.

Jenassa took hold of the clamp again, this time using it to slowly lift Dira’s heavy breast until Dira couldn’t hold back a desperate whine. “A surface application. Not one I will let you suck from my clit, however. Are you ready to focus?”

“Yes,” Dira whimpered, digging her nails into her wrist. Jenassa lowered the clamp and the agony faded back to a hot throbbing ache. Sweat prickled across her skin, driven by the frisson of pain and the swollen heat of arousal.

“Open.”

As if she hadn’t already been panting open-mouthed, Dira dropped her jaw and stuck her tongue out for good measure, as if to receive something much larger. Jenassa gave a near-growling purr as she guided Dira’s mouth down on her clit.

Her lips sealed around the base of Jenassa’s clit and the length of it pressed down on her tongue. Humming, Dira laved her tongue up to stroke the thick shaft, to explore its shape and hardness. She tasted Jenassa’s arousal on it, stronger toward the base. Hungry, she sucked it clean and then stuck her tongue out farther, trying to reach Jenassa’s hole.

Jenassa’s hand tightened in her hair but didn’t hold her back. Dira darted her tongue back and forth to lap up every trace of hot salt she could reach. When she pulled, Jenassa let her slip a little lower and finally reach her hot core. She found Jenassa as sopping wet as herself. Flushing hotly, Dira buried her face in Jenassa’s folds and licked her clean, then thrust her tongue in deep and tried to convey how very hard she wanted to fuck Jenassa. 

Jenassa sighed a touch shakily. "Damn. That's quite a sight."

Half her face buried between Jenassa’s legs, Dira darted her eyes up. A moment later, Jenassa pulled her away, leaving her panting and wet-faced and red.

“You have enthusiasm. But I want you here. Tongue out— yes.” Jenassa laid her clit on Dira’s extended tongue and thrust slowly. “I imagine you know how to worship a cock.”

Dira felt the flush creeping down her collarbones as Jenassa casually rubbed on her tongue. Drool trickled out the corner of her lips. “Yeth.”

“Just like that, then.”

Dira gulped a breath and sealed her lips around it again, grateful to suck and swallow back her spit. It _was_ very much like a cock— hot, hard, occasionally twitching on her tongue— except that the size meant she could breathe easily around it.

“Harder,” Jenassa ordered. “Move your head.”

Although Dira needed no assistance, she _liked_ that Jenassa pulled her back by the hair. The sting of her scalp made her shiver and gasp. She lost suction on Jenassa’s clit and popped back messily, a string of spit breaking on her chin. She dove in and sucked it in again, laving her tongue hard in apology. And in hopes of avoiding a tug on the clamps.

“ _There_ ,” Jenassa said, guiding Dira forward and back more successfully. Jenassa’s clit wasn’t long enough to slide up and down on; Dira had to keep her lips tight on it and pull with suction. Judging by Jenassa’s growling moan, that was exactly right.

The weights on her nipples swung when she bobbed, sending pain shooting through her breasts. Dira kept her lips tight but whimpered through her nose.

“That’s right,” was all Jenassa purred. Her eyes glinted. She made Dira bob again, bouncing the weights off her chest, and her smile widened.

Realizing exactly what Jenassa wanted, Dira shut her eyes against a hot prickling wave that was half despair and half lust. Oh, this was going to be miserable— and Jenassa would love it. And it did nothing to quench the throbbing heat between her own legs.

Resigning herself to the torment, Dira bent to her task. If she did it eagerly, if she was good… She sucked in hard quick jerks, tongue rubbing steadily on the shaft of Jenassa’s clit. She had the feeling that fancy tricks and teasing wouldn’t work on Jenassa— nor did she want to draw this out.

Jenassa’s hand relaxed into a casually possessive weight, letting Dira do all the work. “Yes… You do know what to do with a cock in your mouth. I wish I could see you better. That sweet little mouth all pursed up for a kiss… Your lovely breasts bouncing… How do they feel, my dear?”

Dira gave the whine Jenassa wanted.

“Delicate instruments do the most exquisite work. Imagine what I could do to your clit.”

A shudder of electric terror wracked Dira, making her jerk so hard that the weights jingled. By Dibella, how could that thought be erotic? She didn’t think Jenassa would hurt her there— they hadn’t discussed it, during the round of tea that had had Dira squirming almost in a puddle of her own slick— but what if she _did_?

Her breath had become a little sobbing noise, fast and desperate. Jenassa stroked her hair, her cool imperious appraisal doing nothing to alleviate Dira’s fear. Dira’s best efforts only made her hum and shift slightly, resituating her weight to grind into Dira’s mouth.

Tears stung Dira’s eyes as yet another jolt seared through her breasts. Pain built on pain, worsening until her nipples felt like they were on fire. Unable to help it, Dira finally reached up and cupped one breast, pressing its heavy curve to her chest without touching the clamp or weight. It helped dull the sting— only a little, but it helped.

"Diranali, put your hands down. You can have them off when you're done."

Whimpering around Jenassa’s clit, she let go. Her breast dropped and the clamp jerked, sending a bolt of exquisite agony through her. She turned her eyes upward in plea, her lashes clinging with tears.

"Oh, but you look perfect like that." Jenassa was breathless. "That's not an incentive to let you go. Come on, darling... cry a little if you must."

When she squeezed her eyes shut and tears trickled out, Jenassa stroked her cheek just beside— not to remove the track of kohl, but to relish it.

“Embrace the pain, sweet girl. That’s very good.”

With Jenassa’s hand on her head, Dira surrendered all hope of _less_ and focused on _escape_. Jenassa’s climax was the only thing that would end the pain, and _oh_ , Dira wanted it. She wanted it more than her own pleasure. ( _Void take her_ , Jenassa was a clever bitch.)

If Dira concentrated hard on Jenassa’s clit, sucking and licking as hard as she could, the agony of her nipples receded to a red haze smeared across the back of her brain. She kept a steady rhythm, letting the weights smack and pull on her tits in regular jolts, and the pain became a second heartbeat. Tears dripped from her chin and she whimpered steadily between sniffling breaths, but she didn’t stop bobbing and sucking for all she was worth.

Her jaw hurt… and her tongue… but Jenassa’s breathing was getting faster and her hips worked steadily, thrusting to meet Dira’s mouth. Dira’s sore lips smacked wetly as she struggled to maintain suction. She gulped back a sob and sucked harder.

“That’s it,” Jenassa breathed, as if she could sense Dira’s flagging resolve. “ _B’vek_ , that’s good. Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop. Come on, girl. Nearly...”

Jenassa was thrusting hard enough to jolt Dira, igniting sparks of pain from the swinging clamps. She squealed through her nose, frantically trying to maintain a steady pace with her sore tongue. She needed Jenassa to come— needed it, wept for it, would have begged if she’d had the ability. She pressed in harder, surrendering air, doing her best to swallow Jenassa’s clit all the way down— gods, if only she’d been able to take it in her throat she’d happily let Jenassa fuck her that deep, just so she would— finally—

With a guttural cry, Jenassa twisted her fist in Dira’s hair and thrust into her mouth, her knees nearly buckling. She kept herself up with a wobble, cursing viciously, holding Dira’s mouth in place.

Light-headed and blinking back tears, Dira stared up in something like rapture, watching Jenassa grimace and gasp her way through orgasm, more undone than she had ever been. Her sinewy thighs were trembling. Her clit was throbbing hard between Dira’s lips. Almost in bliss at the release of her duties, Dira held her mouth obediently open and let Jenassa grind against her tongue, riding the receding waves of pleasure.

As she slowly unclenched, Jenassa looked down at Dira with undisguised affection— if affection with a markedly possessive slant. Dira, who felt rather fuzzy in the head, didn’t mind if it meant she was being petted and let breathe and not expected to keep tormenting her poor nipples. After such an ordeal this felt _lovely_.

“Remarkable. You are exquisite, my dear. I knew you would be a delight, but this… you are beyond what I had imagined. Thank you.” She gently tipped Dira’s head back, freeing her mouth.

Dira felt adrift with her mouth empty, unused. “Welcome,” she said weakly.

Jenassa arranged Dira’s hair carefully behind her ears, giving her full view of Dira’s sticky, flushed, kohl-stained face. The sight seemed to satisfy her.

“Now... I imagine you would like some relief of your own.”

“ _Yes_. Please, please yes.”

Jenassa smiled like a knife. “You may have my mouth— as long as you keep the clamps on. One or the other.”

It wasn’t over. Of course it wasn’t over.

Dira didn’t ask what she would get if she wanted the clamps off. It wouldn’t be Jenassa eating her out, and she _needed_ that. Nothing else would do.

She sniffed and tried to lick away the drool she could feel at the corner of her lip. She didn’t move her hands to wipe it. Giving the biggest begging eyes she could manage— and at the moment begging came _easily_ — she whispered, “Yes please.”

“Please what?”

With her knees still spread, she couldn’t clench her thighs on a hot throb of arousal. “Please use your tongue. Please eat me out. Please let me come in your mouth, _please_.”

Was that the next trick? That Jenassa would lick her but not let her come? But no: Jenassa smiled in approval and gave Dira the gentlest tug by her hair. “Very good. Stand. Come— over here will do.”

Rather than the bed, she led Dira across the room to a small table in the corner. Deliberate in every movement, she placed Dira’s hands on the table, then nudged her feet back so that she was forced to lean over, tits dangling. Dira hastily spread her legs apart, all but trembling to be touched. Jenassa’s cool fingers trailed up her inner thighs to coax another inch of spread from her, but stopped before reaching her pussy.

“Perhaps,” Jenassa suggested gently, “we could remove one clamp.”

The clamps and weights hung freely in the air, their slight swing generating ripples of pain. Dira’s nipples were throbbing points of red-hot fire.

Dira sniffled. “Will you still lick me?”

“Yes.”

“Can I still come?”

“Yes. No punishment, I promise. I’ll simply remove one, if that’s what you want.”

Dira almost sobbed with relief. “Yes! Yes, take it off, please. Thank you.”

Jenassa’s fingers jostled the right clamp. Even the slight disturbance sent crackling bolts of pain through Dira’s breast. She bit her lip and squirmed, nearly frantic for it to be over.

“Ready?” Jenassa’s breath warmed her ear.

The butterfly’s wings flexed and its jaws opened. If Dira hadn’t been watching it delicately release her nipple, the flare of white-hot agony would have made her think it had been yanked off. Shocked by the intensity of it, she gave a strangled scream. Her fingers scrabbled at the tabletop and her whole body juddered hard, held in place only by the cage of Jenassa’s wiry arms.

“That’s it, dear,” Jenassa crooned, cupping her abused tit and squeezing the nipple oh so slightly. Dira wailed, unable to tell if it hurt or helped; the waves of pain radiating through her breast were so slow to fade that it seemed they would never go. But dancing about made the other clamp jingle and twist, so she had to restrain herself to trembling rigidity and let Jenassa murmur in her ear until it passed.

“The release of pain is a marvellous thing. Almost like a climax of its own. You made it though, poor girl.”

Dira took a shuddering breath and darted out her tongue to lick a tear that trickled past her lips. Already her right nipple felt almost normal again, beyond a fading echo of heat. Void take those clamps: for such tiny things they _hurt_. But her left nipple was still clamped— still pinched and throbbing, still stretched out by weights—

Jenassa kissed the back of her neck and stepped back, leaving Dira trembling over the table. Her breath came in short shallow gasps as she tried to move her chest as little as possible. The weights wouldn’t stop swinging… and without the distraction of a second clamp, all her focus narrowed down to the unbearable searing coal of pain that was her left nipple. It burned ten times worse than before. Oh, _gods_.

Jenassa came into view as she sat cross-legged between Dira’s legs and leaned back to look up at her. She appeared upside down, framed in the narrow valley between Dira’s hanging breasts, smiling like a predator.

“That’s _worse_ ,” Dira accused, unable to tell if she was outraged or tearful. “You knew it would be worse!”

Jenassa turned her head to kiss Dira’s inner thigh. “Of course. But you asked for it, Diranali.”

Dira uttered a throaty, “ _Gods_ ,” somewhere between livid and prayerful. She could manage no more with the molten heat still pooled between her legs. With Jenassa’s hands running slowly up and down the backs of her thighs.

Jenassa moved in on her pussy delicately: breath and heat, at first, and then the ghosting tickle of lips on her labia. The very tip of a tongue traced across her folds, sparking shivers up her spine. Hyperconscious of the weight suspended from her nipple, Dira did her best to hold quiveringly still and beseech Dibella that Jenassa would get _on_ with it soon.

The teasing went on for an interminable time, breath and tonguetip sending wave after wave of goosebumps across her skin. The pleasure was surface-level, minuscule, yet it stoked a hot and throbbing arousal in Dira’s belly, deep down in where Jenassa refused to touch. Her pussy clenched. Her face contorted with frustration. She refused to buckle, to beg or hump for more contact that would surely be denied or—

When Jenassa pressed her whole mouth around Dira’s clit and sucked _hard_ , it came as such a shock that Dira yelled. She had been trying so hard to focus on the quavers of pleasure instead of her tortured nipple that an outright deluge of sensation swamped her. Suddenly it was necessary to have Jenassa’s hands on her hipbones, holding her up.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Dira uttered, light-headed and shocked. “Fuck— oh, _fuck_ , oh gods, that’s— please— _fuck_ —”

It was too much but she couldn’t say _stop_ , because what if Jenassa did? Her hips stuttered involuntarily, jerking into the pleasure she desperately wanted and then away from the intensity of it. She wanted— but not quite like that— but—

“Oh, _fuck_ , please— _ah_ , please— yes—”

Jenassa sucked hungrily at her clit. Whining piteously for mercy she didn’t _quite_ want, Dira shuddered and thrust. It made the nipple clamp jolt, made her cry out and whine.

The tongue working powerfully over her clit turned her knees to jelly. Her thighs shook. Struggling for balance, Dira put her forearms to the table. She wanted to sit down, to be spread out on a bed or even the floor. She didn’t know if she _could_ come while maintaining enough control to stay standing.

A finger slid into her pussy, then two. Dira gave a hoarse shout. Her feet stuttered farther apart and her hips dropped, sitting her harder on Jenassa’s face. Jenassa took it, even dug her nails into Dira’s hip to clutch her closer. The fingers drove up into her hard.

The weighted clamp swung wildly. On the edge of complete overstimulation, Dira grabbed a fistful of her own hair and tried not to scream. Or cry. “Please,” she begged over and over, “please— don’t stop— I need— I need, _please_ —”

—and her nipple would _not_ stop screaming, it was killing her, it was too much—

“ _Please_ , I’m almost… almost—”

Jenassa thrust a third finger into her, finally enough to stretch her dripping slick hole, and the fluttering of early orgasm made Dira clench hard. “Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Don’t you dare— _don’t_ — _OH!_ ”

Orgasm twisted her up, wrung every muscle tight, and then exploded through her body, rebounding out of the clench like a seismic wave. Dira yelled, thrusting hard, her upper half jolting upright—

And the weighted clamp jerked free from her nipple and banged to the floor. Dira shrieked at the white-hot explosion of pain.

Neither the pain nor the orgasm ended quickly, rendering Dira a quaking and incoherent mess. She was sobbing again, clutching her breast, at the same time as she grinded into Jenassa’s mouth to ride through another powerful crest of pleasure. Jenassa had eased up, but only slightly, and was sucking Dira’s clit in long slow pulls through each throb. It was good, so good, and it was _over_ , and Dira wanted to fall apart in gratitude.

Head down on her arm, leaning hard on the table, she was still sobbing faintly when Jenassa finally released her a long while later, having warmed Dira’s clit through the last tremors of orgasm and then delicately licked her clean. Dira hadn’t been able to stop shaking, probably could have stopped crying but didn’t especially want to.

She felt more than saw Jenassa slip from beneath her. Callused hands touched her lower back, slid up to her shoulders.

“How are you, Diranali?” Jenassa’s voice did not betray concern but was low and overly calm, ready to absorb any shocks.

“Fine,” she whispered between gulping breaths. She wasn’t really crying, but afterglow from the combined whirlwind of fear, elation and orgasm had rendered her tremulous and soft.

“That’s it. Darling girl. Do you want to lie down?”

“Please.” She whined a little. It was all the sweeter to be petted and led to bed regardless, her fragility indulged.

Jenassa sat her on the bed’s edge and cleared away her belongings, then lifted the covers for Dira to roll under. Dira gathered that cuddling was not one of Jenassa’s favorite habits, but Jenassa wrapped her up, sat beside her and arranged Dira’s head in her lap with professional care. She seemed to have no problem stroking Dira’s hair with a sense of casual ownership that was, for the moment, tremendously comforting. Things that belonged to Jenassa were valued and carefully cared for. Knives. Clamps. Dira.

After a while, sniffing, Dira wiggled to reposition herself and cupped a sore breast. Both of them ached gently, the left more than the right. Fading purple marks on her tender nipples were all that remained of a vicious torment. She tweaked one and grimaced.

“If you’d like me to toy with them some more, I would be happy to oblige.” Jenassa’s voice was low and smug.

Dira squished her breast protectively. “ _No_. That’s… I think they’re all right.”

“Still sore?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Well. It will give you something to remember me by when I’ve gone.”

A pleasant prickle went down Dira’s back. Hopefully— and what business did she have being hopeful when she had _barely_ finished cumming?— she asked, “Are you going to come back? For more herbs, I mean.”

“It’s a long way out here. And yet I think I will.”

“Will you tell me what’s in that tincture you use?”

Dira was still covering her nipple protectively, so Jenassa tweaked her eartip instead. It was as much a promise as a warning. “It’s a secret of my trade, jealously guarded. It must be earned. Do you think you can, Diranali?”

Dira was already breathless with anticipation.

**Author's Note:**

> Dira belongs to [citruspuppy](https://www.instagram.com/citruspuppy/?hl=en), a friend and wizard of hornty thots. I tried to clown on her about Dira in nipple clamps in order to generate art, but instead the beam reflected back on me and I spent 48 hours in a daze writing this.


End file.
